ET Goes
by Wicked R
Summary: Dean is starting to realise how unkind purgatory really is to his angel. Concerned brothers, eventual Megstiel.
1. Chapter 1

Title: ET Goes..

Disclaimers: Purely for fun only. Classic case of 'if you don't see it on screen, fill the void in yourself and write it'.  
>Genre: hurtcomfort you glorious!

Rating: possibly still on the PG side

Summary/Set: Dean is starting to realise how unkind purgatory really is to his angel.

Pairing: Benny/Cas/Dean friendship, perhaps a little bit more

Dean blinked his eyes open, unsure how much he'd exactly slept. Could've been a few minutes, could've been a few hours, in the same constant murky light of purgatory it was impossible to tell. He didn't feel particularly refreshed, though he didn't any point when they have decided to take a break, either. But Benny had recognised his companion's need to have a vague idea of how much rest he had actually managed and usually casually and factually shrugged in his direction, muttering 2-3 hours or 4 at him to let him know. Dean turned round to locate the usually vigilant and sentry vampire who did not need any shuteye. Instead he almost bumped into the dirty, trenchcoated form lying next him. Bewildered, the human sat up to take a better look at the angel's face from an angle that allowed him to establish that Castiel's eyes were indeed closed and his breathing noticeably deep, neither occurrence he was typically used to.

Benny nodded at him affirmatively from a few feet away, his boots perched on a rock as he leaned back on a tree stump. Dean still needed to look back and forth between them questioningly till the vampire decided to share, "he fell asleep not long after you. I guess he needed it," Benny shrugged, his voice low. "You may as well go back to sleep, it's only been about half an hour. I haven't sensed anything off around here," his companion assured him.

"Right," Dean acknowledged the suggestion being the best course of action and pulled his jacket tighter around himself to lie back down. Cas did fight and smite a few monsters that day, perhaps his mojo had to recharge, the hunter reasoned, closing his eyes. The next time he woke up, Castiel was staring into the distance a few yards ahead, scoping out their next leg of the journey as usual. He seemed no more weary and beat than what he had to get used to seeing him like in purgatory so Dean didn't question the unexpected incidence from earlier.

The second time Dean should've asked questions was when Cas disappeared without saying anything. If there was any time between sensing monsters and their attack, Castiel usually let him know if he flew off anywhere given how grouchy and touchy his ex charge has become over the subject of leaving anyone behind or Castiel going anywhere on his own, so Dean was somewhat thrown off balance when he couldn't see their third group member who was supposed to flank them. He held out a hand to stop Benny in front of him. "Cas." Dean questioned, looking around.

The fighting comrades automatically took a few steps in the direction they last saw Castiel in despite the angel's tendency to use other methods of transportation than his feet. "Is something wrong, Cas? Gimme a sign!" Dean barked anxiously and apprehensively as they covered the immediate perimeter, assuming the angel didn't fly far like all the other times they had to fight the beasts of purgatory. Weapons trained and eyes roaming around, they searched around, starting with tracing their steps backwards.

"Cas?" Dean called out again impatiently, "we're in this together you understand! If you're trying to use yourself as bait again to keep the Leviathan away from me, I swear to you Cas.."

"Dean." Benny pointed round an oversized bush where he saw Castiel supporting himself against a tree with one hand, slightly folded over at the waist.

"Cas, are you hurt?" The human hurried in his old friend's direction, offering a steadying hand against hunched shoulders.

"I just need a little rest," Castiel huffed out, pale and seemingly out of breath.

"We're taking a break," Dean established, throwing his rucksack down. Benny gave a slightly disapproving raise of the eyebrows, but took up his habitual sentinel's position.

"Come on, I want you to sit down," Dean lowered the compliant Castiel to the ground. Too compliant. "Cas? What's going on?"

"I used my powers a little too unsparingly," the angel wheezed.

"When?" Dean looked around perplexed for signs of a struggle, "did anybody attack?"

"There was no attack," Benny gave his frank opinion, "the angel's weak. He's been struggling in combat more and more, taking longer to move, longer to smite," the vampire asserted.

The human looked from one to the other, judging their expressions. Castiel pursed his lips, but didn't argue with the assessment. "Do you need a longer breather to recharge?" Dean placed a hand on the angel's shoulder. "I'm sure we could take an early stop for the night and you don't take a turn as sentry. Me and Benny will. Would that help?"

"Dean. It would be in our best interest if we just marched on. The sooner we get to the portal, the sooner the situation resolves itself," Castiel objected.

"And the sooner you fall over. We're camping out here. The surrounding trees should offer enough protection for the time being," Dean established, taking charge, "lie down, Cas," he gave the angel's shoulder a push sideways, "you know just as well as I do that a weak link pulls everyone down in battle. You're taking a rest and that's final."

Tbc


	2. Insuffiecient

Chapter 2: Insufficient

Two melees, a flight with two passengers and three smitings later, Dean was starting to believe the respite has done Castiel a lot of good and that he had recharged as much as he ever did these days when he suddenly became aware of Castiel's absence from his immediate proximity again. Apprehensively, he turned around to find that the angel was still thankfully in sight, although hunched over and holding his stomach. "What's wrong?" The human started, his question being quickly answered by a surge of gastric juices and bile parting from the angel. Benny shook his head, eying up the situation to determine the implications and delay resulting from the celestial being's indisposition this time.

"Easy..easy…" Dean decided to support his swaying friend by the waist, "you think you're done? Stop staring at it, it won't do you any good," he steered Castiel a few steps away from the mess as the angel just gave an indecisive moan. "Damn it Cas, what's wrong with you?"

"Just a minute please, I'm starting to feel better, thank you for your assistance," Castiel huffed, straightening up a little, " we should resume the trek," he attempted to free himself from his best friend's hold.

"Not so fast Cas," Dean kept a supporting arm round the other's back and arm, "I'll let you go when you stop shaking and I'm convinced you'll stay standing when I let go," the hunter asserted.

"And a proper explanation as to what we're dealing with would be good too," Benny inserted, "teamwork doesn't work well without trust and truth."

"I was hoping I could assist you further, but it seems we'll have to part nonetheless," Castiel gave an apologetic frown, still trying to catch his breath.

"Like hell we're parting when you can't even defend yourself!" Dean argued, livid and frustrated over being left clueless while something had obviously been wrong with Cas for a while.

"A little bit I could've went further if you didn't press for explanations," Castiel reproached, "but now I have to admit that I will not only be a danger beacon as I had been before, but a hindrance as well. I'm afraid I don't have the strength to go on."

"We'll wait with you, as long as it takes," Dean assured him, "nobody gets left behind, remember?"

"You don't understand, Dean," Castiel winced, allowing himself to lower to the ground steadied by the hunter's strong hold, "I can't walk, I'm in too much pain. I have been hiding it from you, except there's no need now," he blew out the air, hunching over himself.

Dean spared a worried glace for Benny before swallowing and looking back at Castiel to take stock, "okay, well, it might take even longer than I thought, but I've searched for you for months, a few days here or there won't matter."

Castiel shook his head, "you can't take me. I'm dying. This place, purgatory, it wasn't meant for angels. It sucking out my power day by day, poisoning me and the cramps are getting unbearable," he looked at his friend with pleading eyes, "please Dean, don't make me move," he curled up on himself.

"You're telling me you're dying and that you're in terrible pain and you're asking me to leave you to it? Then your mental faculties must be affected as well," Dean spat. "How far do you think we are from the portal?" He looked up at Benny.

"A couple of days perhaps," the vampire said noncommittally, as evenly as if nothing would've happened.

"You hear that Cas? Two days, that's not long to walk. We'll help. We can carry you if need be," Dean offered a tentative, reassuring hand, rubbing at Castiel's arm.

"No. I won't be a burden. You shouldn't wait. I won't be able to make it anyway," the angel argued.

"And you know that how! We need to get strong branches and hard-wearing vines to bind them up into a stretcher," the Winchester started to look around searchingly.

"I'll deal with that," Benny offered, "you stay with him," their friend from purgatory set to work, knowing how much Castiel meant to the human.

"No, no," Castiel hung onto the supporting hand Dean had provided and heaved himself into a sitting position, "a stretcher would largely hinder your abilities to defend yourself promptly at the first sign of danger. I'll walk."

"Didn't you just say you couldn't?" Benny pointed out raising his eyebrows.

"You begged me a minute ago not to move you," Dean hovered uncertainly.

"That was before your stubborn streak manifesting," Castiel argued, "I will not let you put yourself in peril on my behalf. Help me up!" The angel grunted from the ground just as stubbornly.

"Yeah, whatever," Dean rolled his eyes, "as long as we get you to the portal," he leaned down to grab his friend by the waist and hauled him up, easier than expected as he had Benny's help from the other side. "How's the pain?" The hunter leaned in to look into the angel's ashen face.

Castiel shook his head, trying to straighten up, but bending right back down over his stomach, "not as bad if I don't try to stand straight."

"Peachy," Dean frowned, "could you take one arm away from your belly and over my shoulder?"

"I think so," Castiel bid determined, following the action through resolutely, almost as if he was a lot better than he appeared a moment.

"Okay," Dean spoke with hopeful determination, "just tell us when you need a rest."

Tbc


	3. Sweat, Blood

Chapter 3: Blood, sweat and tears

"When were you going to tell me this place is killing you?" Dean propped Castiel's head up so he could help him to a little bit of water from Benny's flask. The green eyed man didn't know if it would be of any use, or if any of his friend's angelic powers still worked, but with the number of times the angel had been vomiting or was reduced to dry heaves, he must've needed some rehydration.

"Never if I didn't have to," Castiel stated, the water at least restoring the capacity in his throat to speak without grating his vocal cords. Dean eased him back to the ground, mindful not to jolt his friend's abdominal area. Castiel groaned nevertheless, biting his bottom lip to keep himself from making more noise. He curled up upon himself, shaking hands protecting his stomach. Dean's unhappy grunt came like an echo, almost like mirroring his pain, a moment where the human's realisation that his angel couldn't take much more reinforced itself in his brain. At a loss, he placed a hand on the invalid's shoulder, weary of touching him any more in case it hurt him, but wanting to provide some sort of comfort.

"The way you carried him yesterday bridal style's all romantic, but this one will be better so we can share the load," Benny appeared from behind the trees pulling a makeshift stretcher with him and placing it next to the ailing supernatural being, "you need to lift him on it," he prompted Dean.

The Winchester nodded, "just a little bit of pain and then you won't need to move all day," he promised, easing an arm under Castiel's legs and one round his shoulders, "ready?" Castiel took a deep breath, eyes boring into his once charge's apprehensively, but his expression conveyed the same determination that was so characteristic of him. For the lack of a better response, the hunter took it as a yes.

The angel didn't make a sound this time while Dean manoeuvred him to his side like he knew it hurt the least, but the human's relief over not causing his buddy too much pain was shortlived. Castiel's pale face shone with sweat as his eyes fluttered closed and the shivers intensified. And all they have done was just move him one foot. The hunter looked up at his other friend, sharing a concern. It was clear that Castiel's condition had worsened considerably during the couple of hours Dean needed to rest from carrying his once rescuer. Without needing words to come to an understanding, Benny and Dean lifted the handles of the stretcher up as delicately as possible and started treading even more cautiously so they don't agitate the patient. Vigilance over possible attackers largely aside, the hunter monitored Castiel's reactions as much as possible, slowing down each time the angel clawed at his midsection, coming to a standstill when Castiel shuddered with dry heaves once more.

It was how a group of Leviathan found them, at least half a dozen solidifying at close proximity. Even so, Dean placed the stretcher down as gently as possible before reaching for the purgatory blade he had tucked into his belt.

Small, but plentiful bloodstained teeth showed themselves as the first, closest Leviathan's mouth opened wide in anticipation, locked on its prey-the still incapable of defending himself Castiel. Dean caught Benny's eyes once more briefly before all hell broke loose; his vampire friend sniggered at him, managing to kick one of the approaching monsters in the side to make it collide into his fellow Leviathan, the one nearing his buddy.

The momentary imbalance of the creature was all Dean needed to finish the monster. Nobody was getting in close proximity to his angel. The hunter stepped sideways, his feet at Castiel's shoulder now, covering the ailing soldier as much as he could. For no moment while Dean shifted, turned, parried and fought, did he leave the angel's side open. He more felt than saw Benny taking a similar position at the other side, leaping, spinning, his makeshift purgatory weapon smashing into adversaries with a dynamic dance of well skilled, devastating blows.

Dean held his own, vigilant of any opponents not decapitated rising to their feet again. Benny was grinning, who knows about what as their number of attackers didn't seem to go down even after four of them were beheaded. In just the few whirling seconds the first wave of attackers got dealt with, more had emerged from behind the trees. With no time to spare for fear over the unfairness of the situation, the two buddies launched themselves back into battle, hacking, tearing, destroying everything that stepped into range. Fuelled by his anger as he was, in certain circumstances Dean could've called the run-in fun, piling attackers collapsed on the ground on top of of each other. They could win, they always did, he knew it.

The next thing he felt was a big blow at the back of his head. Still, he was in mid swing, he couldn't stop now. Vision swimming, he swayed a little from side to side, but his severing the enemy's neck was still clean and precise. He had to see the next one and the next one, anticipate their moves, calculate his blows, keep in front of Cas, aid Benny. Except the back of his head was throbbing, darkness crept into the peripheries of his vision and his legs felt like jelly. He swung the blade wildly, more defending himself now than attempting to score a hit. But even that became too much. He was fading, strength flowing out his limbs. Dean could not delay passing out any longer. Like a true hunter, he never let go of his weapon as he fell and he planned where to collapse as well. In a crumpled heap entangled with Cas perhaps was the best place. Of course Benny would've needed a miracle to fight all the attackers off by himself, but for just one more moment Dean could still protect Cas. Afterwards, he would most likely find himself on the next level, in hell again, but there was nothing he could do about that.

Tbc


	4. Improbability

Chapter 4: Improbability

When Dean woke, he first became aware of something hard pressing, hurting and shaping his ear into an unnatural shape. At further inspection, he found that it was the wide branch that Benny had used for one of the sides of the stretcher. He was half lying on it, but somehow not on Cas. Castiel was nowhere to be felt or seen in his field of vision! Groaning, he unstuck his blood matted sticky side of his head from the wooden stretcher and almost puked. Whether it was because of a possible concussion or the stench of the sea of burnt out bodies of monsters was hard to tell. Dean sat up gingerly, touching the site of his injury. His hand came back matted with blood, but it wasn't much and it didn't seem very viscous, so he declared himself fit to investigate further.

"Ye'lright mate?" Benny's uneasy voice came, sounding far away, but when he turned towards it, Dean found that the vampire was kneeling only a few feet away, leaning over the ashen form of Castiel, if only concealed from sight partially by the monsters lying lifeless on the ground.

"How did you slay them all?" Dean questioned, muddled. His senses were only slowly coming back to full function.

"I didn't," Benny intoned weightily, "your angel however.."

"Cas did this?" Dean looked around, just to reassure himself it was all true. It made sense given how the bodies looked, but how could Castiel have had the strength?

"You need to come here." Benny stated in a grave tone.

"What happened! What did he do!" Dean scrambled to his feet breathlessly, sheer will keeping him from disregarding the throbbing in his head that intensified at his rising. He dropped to his knees next to the other two before the pounding brought him down all the same.

"He yanked the Leviathan out the way that almost had you, ganked another, then starting shining like the sun. When it was over these were all dead," Benny explained, but Dean wasn't listening. Apart from the absence of burned wings on the ground, Castiel wasn't giving any indication that he was alive. Dean agitatedly searched his angel's blood stained face, felt for a pulse, leaned in to listen to his breathing.

"I can hear it sometimes, there is a heartbeat," the vampire assured him.

"I can't feel it," Dean agonized, continuing to check for a thrumming sensation on Cas' throat as well as his wrist.

"It's there," Benny held out an arm to steady Dean's. "That's not the trouble. It's there at the moment, a vampire can hear it, but it's getting less frequent and less strong. Of course I don't know how much an angel's heart needs to beat," he frowned apologetically, "but I think his body finds it harder and harder to make it work, Dean, I'm sorry. That was the last of his strength he's used up. It won't be long now, he said he doesn't feel the pain anymore."

"We need to go, now!" Dean shouted, "bring the stretcher, quick!"

Benny shook his head, "he's been calling for you before you woke up. He's been calling for you a lot."

"It doesn't matter right now," Dean took to try to gather Castiel's frail upper body in his arms, not minding the dark spots in front of his own eyes at the effort,"are you helping me or not?"

"Look, man," Benny physically held out a strong hand to stop him, "I'm not an aficionado of the angel, but it seemed like his dying wish for you to hold him as he went so against all better judgement of not staying loco, I suggest you stay with him. Not that you could even carry that weight with that concussion of yours and the amount of bloodloss."

Dean looked from one to the other, hesitant for a moment. Castiel was deathly still, cold, ashen and comatose. Benny was as sympathetic as the hunter would've never thought he would see the vampire be, gently taking hold of Castiel's hand and placing it into Dean's. "He was trying to grab for you," Benny explained.

The hunter took a deep breath, overwhelmed by emotions. Realistically, his bloodsucker friend was probably right, it was impossible for him to as much as walk at the moment, let alone carry another person. But he wasn't leaving without his angel. "Then you can carry him!" He came up with the solution.

Benny grunted, exasperated. Of course Dean's stubbornness didn't know boundaries. "And who will help you stand on your feet, brother, hm?"

"Take him, I don't need help," the human's voice took on a pleading tone.

"Very well," Benny knit his brow and reached careful hands under the angel, searching for a firm grip. But as soon as he shifted the legs to hook a strong arm under Castiel's knees, the ailing supernatural went rigid, muscles tense and unwilling to uncurl.

"Deean.." The word on Castiel's lips sounded like a whimper and a shudder went through Castiel as he coughed, blood flowing out of his mouth every time he opened it. "Dean.." He tried again, desperate.

"I'm here Cas," the hunter took Castiel's hand into his own gently, minding not to trigger any sudden movements. "Not too long now Cas, hang on."

Blue eyes opened slowly, taking their time to blink away sweat and grime, but Castiel squeezed Dean's fingers back ever so slightly, "Dean. I'd want you to know.." The angel sighed painfully, fighting for enough breath to get the words out, "that I never regret falling fo.." He wheezed, looking like he needed the oxygen that didn't even exist per se in purgatory.

"Easy, easy, Cas!" Dean held onto his friend's hand helplessly as he watched him cough wheezingly, the movement the coughing caused in his body making Castiel's eyes glaze over with agony. "Don't talk, please! We'll carry you and you'll probably pass out. It will all be ok, Cas, you'll see. Let's do this."

Castiel's other hand shot out, away from being curled up against his stomach and grabbed Dean by the lapel of his jacket, "no. No," he squirmed desperately, "hurts."

"I am not leaving here without you Cas," Dean maintained resolutely, "so suffer it, I don't care, we're getting you out of here," he nodded at Benny to encourage him to follow through with what they've talked about. Castiel gave a small gasp at the vampire's contact, but did not, could not show any more resistance. He was too weak. His hand fell limply from holding onto Dean, eyes closing with the hiss of air that left his lungs.

"Is he still..?" Dean clambered to his feet, swaying, but with his focus never shifting from his ailing friend.

"He's back to unconscious, nonetheless alive," Benny assured him, "I suggest we'd better make time till new Leviathan catch up with us," he adjusted his hold on Castiel as if the angel was featherlight, "get my blade. You can put a hand on my shoulder as we walk if we need support."

"Just so you can feel like Superman?" Dean grumbled, refusing the help and using both of their blades as more or less walking sticks to keep himself upright.

Tbc


	5. Threshold

Chapter 5: Threshold

This one they could not get out of. It had been very suspicious that the closer they got to the portal, the less they were attacked bar for the one or two Leviathan that occasionally popped up and now the reason became prevalent. They were all gathering around the portal instead, wanting another ride inside someone to the other side.

Benny and Dean slowed as they neared the congregation of several dozen Old Ones, skeptical. Of course they should've thought of those pre-monster monsters trying for a repeat performance, but now it was too late to run away, incapacitated and burdened as they were, unless Cas flew them out, which was also kind of an impossibility.

"The angel wasn't that cozy, but of course there's less of us now," black goo took the form of Pete, Charlie's old boss to approach and talk to them, "though he's the only vessel strong enough to contain us. You can take the angel through, as long as you let us enter him."

"This portal is for humans," Dean hissed, "there's absolutely no evidence that anything else can get to the other side," he repeated what Castiel had been saying.

"Your soul and his grace are visibly bonded. You can take him across," Pete assured with conviction, nodding.

"There's no way you're making him suffer like that again," Dean stood his ground despite all odds.

"We need to hurry. The angel's barely alive," Pete stepped closer, impatient.

"I'll do the deed," Benny threw a contemptuous grin in the ex supervisor's direction, turning to Dean who was tightening his hold on Castiel on instinct. "I'll convince him. Give us a minute," the vampire indicated to Dean with his head to trail back a little so they could talk.

"What are you suggesting?" Dean whispered to Benny conspirationally.

"We need to take the offer."

The hunter scrutinized him disbelieving, "I don't understand," he bristled. If there was a hidden meaning the vampire wanted to convey without the Leviathan catching it, it was hidden for him too.

"We don't have a choice. Most of them are still lost somewhere in purgatory. There are only a few dozen of them gathered here, right, not the thousands your buddy took in previously. They will be easy to dispose of. Look, the portal can only exist because another human opened it for you on the other side. You say that would be your brother. So he's there, waiting, ready to fight whatever escapes the hatch."

"Cas can't take another burden like that," Dean reached out, raring to take the angel into his own arms instead, protect him somehow come what may, even from Benny if necessary.

"Castiel is dying. If you don't go through that portal in the next hour, it will be too late."

Dean bit his lower lip, wincing. It was clear that Benny was right. He wasn't even sure how he could be standing with Cas in his arms if Benny didn't balance him regularly. Fighting so many Leviathan at the same time would be doomed to failure even if all three of them were at top health. "Let's make this quick," he turned towards the current leader of the old ones present.

Pete flashed an inhuman, satisfied grin, "I can see that our plan tiring you all out before you reached the portal worked. That's right Winchester, we never intended to kill neither you or the seraph, otherwise you'd be dead. Purgatory is not for the likes of chaps. Now place the angel on the ground."

"Why?" The hunter questioned.

"Because he needs to be anointed with the blood of a purgatory native and a virgin." One of his subjects produced a bottle with some sort of red liquid immediately and passed it over, "the sign will have to be drawn on his skin seeing as we are all this side of limbo."

Dean gave his legs permission to finally buckle, but never let go of Castiel, "fine, but he will stay with me at all times."

"As you fancy," Pete advanced nonetheless with a carefree attitude, on the side of appearing human, but all wrongly slushing about at the same time. He moved fluidly, not bothering to give the impression on human steptaking, but more flowing forward and down.

Long, unsolidified fingers pulled at Castiel's trench making Dean immediately recoil and pull the smaller body closer against him, "I'll do it!" He drew the outer garment aside and gently lifted Castiel's grubby hospital tunic.

"On his chest," Pete gestured, "are you sure you know the markings?" The monster held out the bottle tilting it so Dean could put his fingers under it and he could pour some of the blood over them. No way he was letting the decanter out of his hand in case Dean done something with it that would jeopardize their goal.

"Pretty sure," Dean retorted, "I've seen it enough under some nasty circumstances. That would help it being stamped into my brain," he lowered his unconscious friend to the ground now for the course of action needed, but still kept a hand under his neck. The sight was grim under his fingertips as he worked: ashen skin, jutting out ribs, rigid abdomen, chest barely rising as Castiel took his shallow, short breaths. How possible was it for Cas to survive an ordeal as weighty as ferrying the Leviathans across in his condition? Shaking his head in despair, once he was finished drawing he pulled Castiel up into his arms again, letting his forehead fall onto his. The hunter held him tight, embracing him , virtually crushing him with overwhelming affection, concern and hope, wishing, willing him to be alright with all his might. He barely heard it leaking through his grief, but the incantation went on "…clausa est ob nos, lumine eius ab oculis nostris retento. Sed nunc stamus ad limen huius ianuae magnae et demisse, fideliter, perhonorifice, paramus aperire eam…"

Dean only concentrated on his best friend, suspecting that with every word Castiel was more and more depleted. Outwardly, there were only a few weak shakes and moans, but Dean knew it was so only because the angel's body was incapable of more. He held on tighter, panicking that he could not sense Castiel's breath on his face even so close to him, wondering if cpr could have any effect in purgatory. He would breathe for Cas, march for Cas, take the toll his constitution was suffering. If only his angel wasn't dying in his arms. But since he could do none of those, he keened for him, in his place instead. It was for this reason, for him being in his own world with his special friend that he didn't notice the other sounds that were around him. Sizzling, screeching, bubbling, shouts.

"Now, we need to go now!" Dean finally noticed the unexpected commotion when Benny tugged at him to stand up, trying to take some of Castiel's weight. That, he wouldn't give over, but he let the vampire help him to his feet, hunter instinct telling him to take stock of the situation. It wasn't done, it wasn't finished, the incantation wasn't complete, he was quite sure. All around him, Leviathan were writhing in pain in a similar fashion to each other as what they looked like when they were drenched in borax.

"How did you..?" Dean started as the vampire pushed and pulled them towards the open, pulsating portal. Then he saw it, him, Sam, standing in a fuzzy light, clearly still at the other side of the portal with a sizeable borax blaster. It was raining with the acid the old ones couldn't suffer. "Stay there.." Dean mumbled uselessly, because it was more Benny than his own legs that were the ones carrying them, and he feared Sam would probably step over to the purgatory side helping them negotiate their way through the thrashing, shrieking Leviathan. Soon enough though, his brother's strong arms reached him, helped him step over the threshold, cushioning Dean's fall when he gave up knowing he didn't have to walk anymore. Jerking his head back, he made sure that Sam was scrubbing the markings on the wall the portal was positioned on and that Castiel was still in his arms with Benny hanging on and then there was darkness.

Tbc


	6. Domestic

Chapter 6: Domestic

"Cas!" On further hunter instincts, Dean woke with a start, shooting into a sitting position on the bed. His bed, his own cozy cot in the wooden hut in the forest the Winchesters called home these days. His convenient situation however didn't lessen his anxiety over his friend. He swung his legs over the side to go investigate, not wanting to let some drivel dizziness stop him.

"Dean, no, you're pretty dehydrated, drink first," Sam's large, warm palm on one of his shoulders and a glass of water shoved in front of his nose stopped him.

"Where's Cas?" He took the water, drinking vehemently. If that was what it took to get off the bed, he would rush through the drinking.

"He's in my room, resting."

"How is he Sam!" Dean demanded apprehensively.

"He's unresponsive…Dean you need to sit back down!" The younger Winchester caught his brother falling to the ground for the second time that day and maneuvered him back onto the bed.

"You can't just say he's unresponsive and expect me to lie here doing nothing!"

"What else could you be doing even if you were not in bed?" Sam squinted slightly confounded, "he will gather strength and wake up in his own time when his grace allows it like he always does."

"We can't be sure. You haven't seen him Sam. Purgatory was making him ill to the point of puking blood and going unconscious from the pain."

"It doesn't sound very unusual?" The tall Winchester deliberated still, "time travel does that to him too."

"He was dwindling away in front of my eyes, day by day, hour by hour. I've not seen so much pain in anybody's eyes. I didn't know if he could hang on. Help me up so I can see him."

"Alright," Sam gave in with a badly masked eyeroll, uncoupling the iv tube from his brother's arm. Dean didn't look much less worse for wear than Castiel, so Sam took it upon himself to pretty much hoist the older man out of bed and skeptically put his brother's feet on the ground. Dean was hanging onto Sam's strong arms tightly, but didn't falter in his steps towards the adjacent room, only halting by the door after the angel's form came into view.

"Where's Benny?" Dean rounded on Sam accusingly when not seeing the vampire around Cas or anywhere, "you didn't kill him, did you?"

Sam raised his eyebrows, giving a little shrug, "well, not for the lack of trying to..but he took off and I had other things on my mind," he raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture at Dean's barely contained, noticeably livid reaction at the first part of his sentence, "he claimed you wanted to bring him out. Why is that again?"

"Because if it wasn't for him, neither me or Cas would be alive, let alone out of purgatory. You might call him a valuable ally, but he's much more than that." Turning without waiting for any sort of acknowledgement or response from his brother, Dean's attention refocused on the ailing angel. "Why didn't you help him!" The older hunter accused, forgetting his own weakness and dizziness as he made his way unsteadily towards the occupied bed. He would find Benny later.

"What was I supposed to do?" Sam questioned, "we never do anything, we just wait for him to wake."

"That's right, we never do anything, fabulous friends we are! You should've checked him over, cleaned him, given him water, inserted an iv like you did with me at least or something! It can't hurt, can it!"

"If you think so.." Sam relented dubiously.

"Get warm water in a bowl and help me with him!" Dean ordered, trying to pry the trench off Castiel's arm that wasn't under him. "We'll probably need scissors to get these filthy clothes off."

"Is there something I should know? Something that happened to him in purgatory or before? Apart from the whole psychotic denial-retreating from the real world syndrome I mean," Sam enquired while retrieving the requested items.

"I've told you, he was dying in my arms."

"Yes, and he has practically died in or out of your arms a number of times before?" Sam spared a look at Dean to evaluate his brother's countenance. The older man definitely sounded as if concerned more than the taller brother had ever seen him being worried for anyone, bar for maybe his brother. "He's an angel, Dean. He just looks exhausted, not dying. They don't die like that. Let him sleep it off," he reminded the nervous Winchester what they normally did when Castiel was injured.

"What if he's not an angel anymore? If he's not healing, that would be the reason."

"There wasn't enough time yet for him to heal, especially if he was hurt that much you described," Sam tied to calm his brother down.

"The portal was for humans, he kept saying that. What if his grace was left there? What if the Leviathan are using it or destroying it as we speak? I need him to wake up and tell us everything's ok. Then I'll let him rest," Dean took the wet towel Sam offered and started cleaning, patting Castiel's face with it, hoping the water would raise his friend. "Cas? Cas, come on."

Sam hovered, hesitant. He would trust his brother's judgment in his assessment of Castiel needing help if the older hunter insisted so, after all, he himself wasn't there in purgatory to understand developments, so it was the gentleness that Dean touched their friend with that mystified him. Something was there between those two, something that wasn't there before. But he stepped forward nonetheless as Dean couldn't undress Castiel on his own since wetting their comatose resident's face didn't bring any results. Taking the overcoat off was easy enough, but then when Sam placed a finger inside the hem of Castiel's trousers to slip them off, the fallen angel moaned and curled up on himself.

"Watch it! His stomach is very sore!" Dean snapped.

"Okay, okay," Sam distanced his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Let me examine him properly. His abdomen seemed rigid and kind of warm," the younger man showed clear concern himself. At Dean's permitting nod, he slipped his palm under the filthy tunic doubling as Castiel's top, making sure his gentle touch did not upset their patient.

Even so, Castiel shivered, breathing out a faint whimper. Sam winced in sympathy, but made sure to cover the whole area nevertheless to be able to assess the damage. The scholar shook his head, "he's either having continuous cramps that encompass his entire stomach or if he really is human, it could be peritonitis. How long has he been like this?" Sam busied himself taking a pulse, cursing himself for not checking earlier.

"This bad in pain? This bad only a few days."

"His heart rate is elevated, he's got a raging fever and a washboard stomach," Sam sighed, sounding in a rush all of a sudden, "I'll go get some holy oil to test if he's still an angel. You try to get his fever down in the meantime!" He shouted from the door.

Tbc


	7. Position

Chapter 7: Position

"Maybe we should take him to hospital anyway," Dean changed the wet towel on Castiel's forehead, then set about to clean the remaining grime off the prone form. "We'll deal with whatever consequences there might be as they come there."

"We've been through this already a number of times Dean," Sam paced the small room, sounding no less worried. "Imagine they took him to surgery and the incision just healed right there and then. The holy oil hurt him when we tested him. He is still an angel, there's no doubt about it. He could heal at any minute."

"I don't care!" Dean hovered with his wet towel over Castiel's stomach. It was still covered in dirt, but Dean didn't dare touch that part of his angel's body because as much as touch hurt his friend so much before. "You didn't see how drained he got. Maybe he needs some intervention before he can start healing on his own."

"If he doesn't get better by tomorrow, we could take him.." Sam accepted, "and that would give me time to falsify some papers for him."'

"What are you waiting for then?" Dean ushered his brother to get to work. "We go as soon as they're ready. You don't normally take more than a couple of hours with that in the worst case and that is exactly how much I'm willing to wait," Dean asserted.

"I'm fine Dean," Castiel's drowsy, rasping voice interrupted them, making Dean turn back and Sam rush to the angel's side.

"How are you feeling?" Dean took one of Castiel's hands into his palms gently, coaxing the ailing being to direct his attention towards him.

"It hurts," Castiel flinched, "but not as much as before," he established on a steady voice.

"Oh good, good," Dean exhaled noisily, relieved, "I told you I would get you out. Are you gonna be alright now?"

"I will heal.." Castiel exhaled slowly, settling his head back into the pillows as if it would've been heavy.

"It's nice to see you Cas," Sam squeezed his other arm, "you're still an angel, right? You're able to heal ok? Cause you're still running a high fever and your body seems to have a hard time coping."

Castiel blinked owlishly at Sam, "I'm an angel.." He trailed off, seemingly spaced out.

"Answer the other questions, Cas!" Dean urged, gripping a shoulder of the prone being to attract his friend's attention.

"I'm.." Castiel turned his head slightly, towards the sound, "I need help.." He squeezed Dean's hand back slightly as a sign of trying to hang on.

"Anything Cas, we'll try to help," Sam assured.

Castiel shook his head, " Dean," he panted, grimacing,"Dean knows how to help with the pain."

"I do?" The older hunter looked dazed.

"Like in purgatory," Castiel shifted slighty to his side clutching Dean's hand back for leverage, curling up on himself and closing his eyes again.

"What..what do you want me do Cas?" The older Winchester regarded the angel slightly at a loss. "I didn't do anything in purgatory, apart from moving everything possible to get you out." Dragging him along, supporting him, carrying him, taking care of him, holding him. Holding. Dean blinked up sheepishly at Sam, wondering whether that was what Castiel meant. But he wasn't going to come out and ask that straight. Rather, he picked up the cloth again and rinsed it in the cold water in the bowl his brother had provided earlier. However, instead of immediately setting the rag on the angel's forehead, neck of chest like he had before to reduce the fever prior to Castiel coming to, Dean sited himself at the head of the bed and coaxed Castiel's head into his lap, allowing for a position Cas could more comfortably curl up in. Then he started stroking the back of his friend's neck with the cool wetness seeping out the piece of cloth.

Castiel gave a shaky, supplicating moan, one that made hard to establish if it was caused by discomfort or the alleviation of it. It brought out a strong sentiment of sympathy in Dean nevertheless and the fingers of his idle hand moved to make trails in Castiel's soppy, messy hair on their own accord.

"So I'm guessing what he said means he will recover on his own?" Sam summarized the impressions he got.

"I think so," Dean nodded, "but somehow I don't think it will be easy or quick," he sighed, frowning.

"You might be right about that," Sam rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, at a momentary loss, trying to sum up in his head what symptoms the rebel angel had had and what he could still do using either human medicine or supernatural experience to provide some aid to the powerful being who otherwise once needed a whole bottle of aspirin for a hangover. How much of what would it be in any way useful, or even be safe to give him as not to cause more harm than good? Or would it be better to just leave Castiel's grace to do what it normally done best? He reached out to take the angel's pulse again hesitantly, vaguely hoping that it will give him an answer.

"Leave him be! Don't move him anymore!" Dean snapped, "it's only causing him more pain!"

"I wasn't going to move him," Sam grumbled, gently touching their ailing companion's wrist. "So what now? No hospital then for sure?" He added after a moment's silence of counting heartbeats, results of which had satisfied him somewhat.

"Just let him rest Sammy," Dean lowered his hand from Castiel's neck to the angel's back in a protective gesture, "then we will see."

Tbc


	8. Roar

Chapter 8: Roar

Sam scrambled and broke into a short run to the adjacent room, having been woken up by his brother calling out his name. Equipped with a salt gun and an angel blade, he burst into the sick room finding Castiel sitting propped up in Dean's arms, rocking slightly back and forth panting with every shallow breath, his hands clutching his midsection, halting moans escaping his lips as if even making a sound would've been too much for him. He had been cleaned, barely had any clothes on, but the pair of clean shorts his brother must've managed to pull on him.

"I don't know what to do with him Sam," Dean's voice sounded pained too. "I can't stand watching him in so much pain. I thought bringing him out would help, but he's just like he was in there!"

"Did his fever go up?" The tall Winchester questioned apprehensively, "is he confused?"

"No, no, but he threw up the little water I tried to give to him. Sam, we need to help him."

"Morphine. I can give him morphine. A human dose at first and maybe more if we don't get results," the lanky man reasoned.

"Do it!" Dean agreed immediately, leaning his head close back to Castiel's in wait as if holding the angel tighter would've been able to help bar for maybe some comfort. "You need to do it intravenously. It will take too long to take effect otherwise," he deliberated.

"Dean, it will only take three to five minutes if I inject it into muscle. It would be hard to find a vein if he's shaking like that. You know, you keep forgetting I'm not actually a trained doctor." However, he stepped over to the cabinet where the medicine was stashed all the same.

His brother waved at him dismissively, indecisive but impatient, "either way, just do it quick, will you!" Dean followed Sam's movements edgily, biting back some curses till the deed was done. Then they both sat anxiously, waiting for result, eyeing every twitch of the angel's watchfully. Dean's features relaxed just as Castiel's did, his posture deflated just as Cas' breathing came under control. The angel took a deep breath and his previously scrunched up eyes fluttered open a few minutes later while he licked his cracked lips.

"Do you want some water Cas?" Sam asked benevolently while Dean looked on disapprovingly. Maybe their patient needed the water despite being an angel, but he did vomit last time they've tried to put something in his stomach.

Castiel however, licked his lips again and nodded, prompting the younger Winchester to wordlessly supply him with a cool glass and assisting him to a few sips. The angel groaned, trying to get himself to a more appropriate position from his side, thus making Dean support and help him despite doubts over the benefits of a drink. "Thanks.." Castiel managed a muffled whisper, his eye movements giving his appreciation to both of them.

Dean gently lowered him back to his thighs, "is this position ok for you?"

"Yes," Castiel raised trembling fingers to further show his gratitude with a touch of one of Dean's knees.

"Cas." Sam tried to attract the other's attention, "a human dose of morphine worked to ease your pain. I'm not sure if that should calm me or worry me."

"I do need more," Castiel supplied, not making either of them calm down with that statement either.

"You're not dying still, are you?" Dean voiced his fears, words leaving his lips a little more harshly than intended. "No more games, Cas."

"I.." Castiel started, intending to let the boys know how glad he was they cared so much about him, but didn't have the strength to explain much, "I'm fine," he decided upon instead.

"But you're not fine Cas and I need to know what to do!" Dean exploded with nervous energy, jostling the form in his lap, making Cas grunt and clamp a palm to his stomach. "Too tired to speak," Castiel clarified in fear of further jostling.

"Cas," Sam prompted gently, "if you're tired, I'll speak," he negotiated, "let's start with making you comfortable first. He was worried by the angel's reaction to being moved. "I'll get you more pain relief if.."

"Please?" Castiel blinked at Sam hopefully.

"Certainly," the younger Winchester assured, "if you can tell me it's safe to administer above human doses."

"Yes, it is," the angel answered with the clearest words that left his lips since his return from purgatory, openly keen on the relief.

"Okay," Sam nodded, taking to prepare another syringe, "I'm on it. So.." He pushed the needle into the bottle top of the morphine vial, "your grace was getting poisoned by the nature of purgatory how I understand it, is that right?" To Castiel's nod, he continued, "is this poison leaving your system as we speak?"

"More or less.." Castiel grumbled, wanting to be left alone.

"What do you mean more or less! What you really mean is less!" Dean reacted immediately, "the stubborn son of a bitch doesn't make it any easier for us to help!" He yelled and manhandled Castiel into a half sitting position, not minding the pain the angel seized up with at the movement. "I am not watching you go through torture you understand! If there's anything that can be done, you'll tell us!"

"In heaven.." The third member of Team Free Will managed, his hands clawing in the air in the vicinity of his stomach.

"Put him down so I can get the morphine into him," Sam directed. "Cas. Being amongst the host would heal you, right?" He continued lightly, steering the discussion in a manner that he hoped would dampen anxieties. "You might feel a small nip in your arm again," he added, referring to the syringe he positioned over Castiel's lower arm. He waited till the angel relaxed somewhat being let down onto the bed again, then followed through with the medicine.

"I can't go back to heaven," Castiel looked from one brother to the other, ostensibly panicking.

"He can't, they'll kill him up there," Dean theorized and his friend didn't have the energy to specify his own reasons instead. Castiel just mumbled, "don't want to see," feeling drowsier than a moment before. He closed his eyes, having no desire to fight anything, including his own body.

"He's not strong enough to go up there by himself anyway," Sam shrugged, "but there's no other angel I can think of that we can trust."

"We don't need to trust them, you just need to go summon and trap one, than make him help. Maybe they can heal him?" Dean looked in Castiel's direction, only to find him more tranquil than before and with his eyes closed. "Do you think the morphine worked?"

"It looks like it," Sam took Castiel's wrist again gently to check on the pulse. "Alright," he stood, satisfied, "I will figure out something re angels, you can just stay with him."

Tbc


	9. Go Between

Chapter 9: Go-between

"Are you trying to burn the cabin down?" Dean groused as Sam lit circle of holy oil after conjoined circle of holy oil, ushering a grim looking, beardy figure through them towards the bed.

"I always put out the previous ones we don't need anymore," Sam placated.

"Well, you could've summoned him in here instead of the other room!" Dean frowned.

"I didn't want to disturb until I knew I was successful," the tall brother explained.

"He's filthy," their prisoner spoke up, standing by the bed at last.

"Who's this?" Dean deadpanned, disapproving. His hold on his angel tightened automatically, without noticing himself.

"Azrael. He's the angel of retribution and in some traditions and folklore is sometimes identified as the right hand of Death," Sam clarified.

"Oh, rich. Possibly the best candidate to help, don't you think?" Dean deadpanned.

"He's just as good at healing as any other random angel," his younger brother defended his position.

"Only I have no desire to heal a god impostor who turned to vapor hundreds of his own kind," Azrael argued.

"We've got plenty of holy oil to douse you with," Dean grunted at the newcomer before turning to Sam, "did you take his angel blade off him?"

The tall Winchester nodded, brandishing the mentioned item in a pressuring manner, as a weapon towards its own owner. Dean followed suit with Castiel's blade. "Get to work!" He instructed the summoned being.

Azrael stepped forward once, hovering a hand over Castiel's torso and sighed, "it's no use you know. I've been told Castiel has spent months in purgatory. That means poison that's not even really meant for angels accumulated in his body that would burn my grace on touch. I can already feel its effects from here."

"You're afraid of a little stinging?" Dean reproached.

"Not at all," Azrael held, "but as it was never meant to come in contact with angels, I have no means of extracting it."

"Well, try at least!" Dean rolled his eyes.

"It is impracticable!" The morose angel grunted his displeasure, "to extract the darkness, it is a high level demon you need.

"We can summon a demon," Dean glanced in his brother's direction to prompt him for action, then turned back to their captive, "but you're staying in that ring of fire till we know for sure you're telling the truth!"

"My caretaker.." Castiel muttered with an expression that resembled a small smile.

"Cas, are you awake?" Dean tried to get his friend's attention by cupping his face. "Did you hear what Azrael said?"

"Beautiful thorns.." Castiel slurred with his eyes still firmly closed, sounding affectionate.

Dean moved his hand to Castiel's forehead, "he's not that warm. Could he be confused or hallucinating? Or just dreaming?"

"No Dean. I think he means Meg," Sam established, "he wants us to summon Meg. Should be easy enough," he shrugged, "I'll just throw the ingredients together."

"I can go then, right?" The trapped angel suggested.

"As we don't like your company about the same much as you don't like our company, I suppose you could," Dean tossed one of the wet rags he's been using to cool Castiel down with onto the edge of the ring of the fire Azrael was standing in. The momentary reprieve of the flames was the only thing the angel of retribution needed to whizz off.

Sam marginally slowed his steps, acknowledging the departure as he entered back with a bundle of candles, herbs and the necessary bowl to add the summoning ingredients into. It wasn't the first time they've summoned Meg or demons of her level so he worked quick setting up the spell, adding a few drops of blood and reading out the incantation, then paused, stepping back to expect the result to appear.

Meg turned, taking in her surroundings with hazy eyes, breathing uneven and halting. "Boys?" She exhaled uncharacteristically unsure, then promptly collapsed on the spot, head thudding on the wooden floor and leaving a trail of blood pooling under her.

"Another patient," Dean rolled his eyes, "just what we need!"

Sam peeked at the bundle of a demon from his height, raising his eyebrows, "that extent of a lack of healing in a demon could've only happened with extensive, sustained torture."

"Awesome. I assume we have just freed her from the hands of Crowley and the suited charlatan will turn up for her any minute," Dean complained, "so will you wash her up and get her on the move! We brought her here to help, not to pass out!"

Tbc


	10. Tandem

Chapter 10: Tandem

Castiel's artificially induced restful sleep didn't last long so when he curled up upon himself rigidly, Dean resumed trying to ease his suffering with gentle wet cloth belly rubs, reassured he was doing something right by Castiel having unclenched his fists and having slowly loosened his grip on his stomach at the hunter's touch. So when Sam dipped another face towel into the bowl his brother used, and stepped to Meg, the occupant of the other bed, Dean reacted, aggravated, "what are you doing!" He objected.

"You told me to wake her up?" Sam used the towel to wet the demon's face, both sides.

"Dumping a bucket on her should work better?" Dean argued, "Castiel is starting to come to. I was hoping we would be further ahead helping him by the time he's in line for another bout of cramps."

"What's wrong with Clarence?" Meg turned her head in the other bed's direction, Sam's method having clearly worked.

"I managed to land him in purgatory and took months to find a way out," Dean blamed himself, "during which time he was thoroughly poisoned by the filth down there. I hope you know what I'm talking about cause we brought you here to extract it!" The Winchester got to the point quickly.

Meg sat up slowly, laboriously, checking whether her nose bleed had stopped, "is that why you have him practically naked?"

"Can you or can you not do it?" Dean probed, frustrated.

"Uhm.." She maneuvered herself to the edge of the bed, holding a hand out for Sam to pull her up, "let me see him," she managed on her feet with the tall man's help, then swayed, causing Sam to have to keep a hold on her while she tried to gain balance. "Are you all batshit trying to make him survive in that environment?" The demon nagged protectively nevertheless, depositing herself down the side of Castiel's bed with a big exhale.

"Are you too injured to perform the extraction?" Dean probed again nervously. Castiel's hand in hers, she lifted his fingers to her swollen, beaten cheek and held it there as if finding comfort.

"Meg!" Dean shouted at her, intent on breaking her reverie.

The demon sighed, raising her eyes at the hunter addressing her, "it will not affect me physically, but that much darkness, I'm not sure I want."

"What do you mean darkness?" Sam inquired, kneeling to be level with the others so he can look into their eyes.

"I'm assuming he got ill because he didn't let the essence of purgatory touch his grace so it attacked his body instead. He can't heal it because the moment his grace would touch it, it would get tainted. In theory of course, that's what I think happened. I could extract it, sure, but my essence would be tainted too."

"You're already tainted," Dean retorted, "you're so much tainted, you're not even tainted, you're a demon!" He protested, "what harm is it gonna do!"

"When I said I felt clean when he kissed me, I wasn't kidding! Clarence started something that I could not control nor did I want to. I'm not the demon I once was. I didn't want this doubt, this self-reproach, this..this conscience thing…this… feeling, you know, affection, but I have it and I'm changing every day. It's why Crowley didn't kill me, he was mesmerized. I know that I'm not human, but I am no demon either, not anymore. Taking that evil poison will make me a demon once again, I'm quite sure of that."

"It's ridiculous for a demon not to want to be a demon!" Dean deadpanned.

"Meg.." Sam started, waving Dean's incredulous huff and eyeroll off, "do you mean to say you're not willing to help Castiel so that you could stay more human? Cause staying human means…"

"How can you imagine I don't want to help Clarence!" The not completely demon countered, "of course I will heal sexygrace! All I'm saying is that you gotta be ready boys cause I might not be so keen and willing to liaise with you afterwards. I would keep me away from mad cherub as well if I was you, especially any angel blades I might find."

"You don't have to worry about that," Dean grinned, nodding his approval of the plan.

Meg gave him a nod and a half smile for his efforts. She knelt on the bed, supporting herself on her hands as she climbed up and drew close to Castiel's lips, breasts sliding atop his chest, then turned her head to the side abruptly, "are you going to watch?"

"We kind of have to don't we?" Dean grimaced, a little sickened.

Satisfied with the reaction, Meg turned her attention back to the ailing angel to caress his now longish, rumpled hair as it got, uncared for in purgatory. She followed a strand down at the side of his face, looking happier than she has been since her arrival. She leaned in and…

"Kissing is not actually necessary, a simple touch will do I believe," Dean imparted coarsely, "he isn't freaking Cinderella!"

"Jealous?" Meg winked at him, making the man huff. She pulled back, sitting up. "No, I don't have to kiss him, but I'm all for fun, you know?" However, the demon schooled her features and suddenly became serious, "before the almighty and ineffable God-Satan Lucifer…"

"Whoa whoa, slow down, what's Lucifer's got to do with it?" Dean interrupted again.

"It's for protection dumbass. I'd rather be serving Lucifer than those purgatory ogres," Meg specified, "it is important."

"Fair enough," the hunter indicated his approval with his hands up.

"Well, good!" Meg raised her eyebrows curtly at his interruption and continued, closing her eyes, "I renounce the false Judeo-Christian god Jehova, I renounce his vile and worthless son Jesus Christ, I renounce his foul, odious, and rotten holy spirit. I proclaim Satan Lucifer as my one and only.."

"Could you maybe do all that inside your head?" Sam winced.

Meg sighed, looking back at Castiel, "of course boys and I'll serve your tea too." But she didn't give any other indication of her displeasure and remained silent as she stroked the angel's cheek, enjoying the roughness of his purgatory stubble against her fingers. She leaned in again while caressing his chin till their lips met and slowly kissed him. Running her tongue across his lips, the demon ran down her hands on his chest and shoulder and all of a sudden she was in his mouth, making her realise that Castiel had responded by parting his lips and kissing her back. Meg broke the kiss to gauge his reaction even as his arms wrapped around her and she found herself staring into his affectionate, emotional eyes.

"Good to see you Meg," he gave her his special, reserved for the unique demon, adoring smile, "my beautiful angel."

"Angel, not so much, still me," the dark haired woman snorted.

"Hello? Dean Winchester standing here waiting for an update?" The hunter complained.

"Hey," Castiel turned his head to the side to greet him.

"Not 'hello Dean'?" Sam questioned confused.

"Feeling okay?" Dean pressed his friend.

"I am healed," Castiel confirmed, "thank you Meg."

"Are you sure?" The Winchester probed, "what about all that darkness that we were talking about?" He didn't stop holding up his ganking knife in striking distance from the demon.

"I was wrong," Meg shrugged, "I took the darkness in, but either Lucifer protected me, or kissing Clarence made me feel clean again."

"Please put your weapons away," Castiel vouched for her, "I am well and Meg here has no harmful intentions," he sat up to put an arm around her and half cover her in show of protection.

"You should still rest a bit, finish the healing, you know what I mean?" The demon encouraged, voice turning drawled and sweet like honey.

"There is no need now," Castiel started, "…but I think I know what you mean," he turned towards the brothers, "please accept my thanks for your assistance in getting me out of purgatory and finding the solution to making me better. I would also like to thank Benny later, but now I require some more respite," he licked his dry lips.

"Then we will let you rest," Sam allowed good-naturedly, making to go.

"Have you not got anywhere else to be? Kill a King of Hell, plot some revenge?" Dean eyed Meg suspiciously, "you're free to go," he smudged a small part of the devil's trap with his foot.

"I certainly have somewhere else to be," she grabbed hold of the covers and pulled them over her and Castiel's heads.

"For someone who's obsessed with sex, you're rather slow sometimes," Sam gave his brother an encouraging push towards the door, "apparently they need rest, both of them."

The End.


End file.
